


Selfish

by shslpenda (notcoolhajime)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: And Hajime just wants to understand, Angst, Friendship, Hope, Love, M/M, Major Spoilers for SDR2, Nagito is Nagito, Tragedy, lots of introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13410918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcoolhajime/pseuds/shslpenda
Summary: The only good thing about Nagito Komaeda was his complete devotion to hope, but he knew if he were to let his heart decide, it would get harder and harder to leave everything behind for the dreams he so desperately wanted to achieve...And Hajime Hinata was the only thing standing between him and his eternal hope.





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> Please be careful, ahead are some spoilers from Super Dangan Ronpa 2: Goodbye Despair! If you haven't finished the game, please be wary because certain events will be referred to. If you haven't played the game, go finish it immediately! It's a wonderful game.

_"I'll take anything you can give me Hajime! Isn't that a selfless cause? If you need someone to punch, I'll be your punching bag. If you need someone to take out your frustrations on, I'll do anything you ask of me!"_

Hajime tried to ignore the implications of that.

“If you need someone to die so that you can achieve hope- _ah_ -” an unsanitary sound “-that would be my dream! I'll be your ultimate sacrifice!”

Inside Nagito knew it wasn't selflessness, it was the ultimate selfishness.

“If that is the only way this worthless, repugnant, disgusting body of mine could be of use, that is more than my worthless pitiable self deserves.”

Hajime's response was a scorching whisper. “You never do what we want, you only do what you want.”

Nagito was almost caught off guard.

“Ahah… and isn't that positively disgusting?” Komaeda offered.

The look on Hajime's face at that hurt the most. A face void of disgust; only a look of remorse, of confusion, of betrayal. A face that even Nagito never wanted to see, despite the disgusting natures of his waste-filled heart.

But his mouth kept moving anyway, as Hajime just stood still; as the other 12 students passed by, shooting dirty glances his way. But… Hajime didn’t move. He seemed stuck to his position, eyebrows slightly furrowed, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, hands motionless by his sides, and at some point fear clutched at Nagito’s disgraceful heart: had his putrid, wasteful self somehow _talked_ Hajime to death?

In fear, his chatter only grew more frantic, more desperate.

Eventually Hajime turned his head away (Nagito let out a brief gasp of relief) face contorted in a pained expression as he pushed past the still-rambling boy who stared ahead into nothingness spouting his virtues of hope and happiness.

The door slammed shut behind him.

And Nagito could only laugh to tears at how absolutely abominable and disgusting he was.

 

 ...

 

The table the next day was an aura of gloom as Nagito sat with only Mahiru and Sonia at the table, the only one with a beaming smile on his face.

As a head popped up from the staircase below, Nagito turned eagerly, hoping to see Hajime but-  _ah!_ It was Soda and Nidai instead- which wasn’t _Hajime_ \- but he loved them both anyway!

“Kazuichi, Nekomaru! _Good morni-_ ”

And in that moment his vision went black.

In his brief dream, he wondered what breakfast went like. When Hajime arrived would the table be... _full of hope_ ? Like how _he was_ when Hajime was around?

 

 ...

 

What drew Nagito to Hajime is often a subject Nagito wonders about himself. Is it the fact that perhaps his talent is above all the rest? Of course, he had no idea what it _was_ \- but Nagito was sure… _he was sure!_ That must have been what it was. A person as dedicated to hope as himself wouldn’t have time to waste on boring, ordinary, worthless people.

Hajime’s talent must ride above everyone else's. 

 

...

 

Perhaps the most painful thing to Nagito was that Hajime never looked at him the same way again. Whereas all the rest used to bear neutral faces which turned to disgust, the only thing that Nagito seemed to remember of Hajime from before the first trial was a kind face. Even the expression Hajime made after the trial was… beyond expectation. It hadn’t been the quick revulsion that spread like wildfire. Nagito could feel lingering eyes burning into his skin as he ranted to everyone else, but he remembered watching particularly for _his_ shocked expression, his half open mouth, biting back the million questions which must have swirled within him the moment Nagito revealed his plan.

He had secretly been hoping by some work of god that _at least_ Hajime would understand his ideals, and continue being nice to him. _Perhaps he would praise him?_ _That felt nice._ But he was sure that the fact Hajime disagreed only meant he was a good, respectable, person, unlike Nagito himself, of course. And Nagito should have been proud of Hajime for making whatever decision he wished, but he couldn't help but be the slightest bit disappointed that they were not on the same wavelength.

But of course, it would be a privilege to stand next to Hajime. _One that he was not worthy of._

So when the boy walked in, through the goodness of his heart, with a tray of food to ensure Nagito was well-fed, the boy immediately gushed. Nagito didn't know what kind of expression he was making at Hajime when the boy came in, just that the other boy looked really really disturbed.

Whatever it was, he couldn't help himself! _How could he be expected to?_ His whole body ached for release from the excitement of being so close to such an astounding individual, but the restraints prevented it, and Nagito was sure what was displayed on his face was only the entire amalgamation of his purest excitement and most indecent yearning to have him here.

Was it not flattering to know someone had such strong feelings for you?

Perhaps his feelings were too strong?

It was incredible that a disgusting weak body such as his own could harbour so much emotion and affection for so many talents and hope. He understood it could possibly be overwhelming for some. But this capability to give love, selflessly, without personal regard for his own pain and needs… wasn’t that one of the only good things about him?

When Hajime slammed the door shut, the food was too far away from him to eat it.

 

...

 

The night after the second trial Nagito had stood outside Hajime’s cabin, and noticed traces of red eyes. When he loudly proclaimed that he could use him as a outlet for all of the poor boy’s frustrations, the door was slammed in his face.

Nagito decided to sit outside Hajime’s cabin window that day just in case he needed him. At approximately 9:03pm he heard an agonizing cry followed by a muffled sob into a pillow.

Nagito rested his head on the cabin wall, letting the moonlight filter through his white lashes. He let out a small cluck of tongue before walking over to the door.

“Hajime? You okay in there? The offer still stands, just so you know! Good night Hajime, I really hope you reconsider. I'll even leave the key under the mat if you want you can come in and kill me, okay?”

He said it loud enough that the surrounding cabins would hear him… but what followed was only complete silence. He was sure Hajime heard him. Nagito stood there for a few more minutes, body pressed against the door, waiting, before heading back to his own cabin for the night.

 

...

 

The night after the third trial, Nagito found himself face to face with Hajime outside his cabin and his disgusting excuse of a heart jolted. A small insane laugh broke through, accompanied by “have you finally come to use m-”, but was ultimately interrupted with a fist in the face that knocked him down.

He stared up, at the other boy who stared in horror back.

“Nagito- I’m so s-”

“Wow, Hajime... You really packed a punch!” Nagito coughed, wiping the blood away from his mouth. His gaze at Hajime was curious, but the brown-haired boy only stood, hands clenched by his sides, eyes squeezed shut and turned away like he couldn't believe himself. “Is this your choice of hope?” Nagito said, standing up, moving closer, and in the brown-haired boy’s eyes he could see fear.

“Hajime, please, cradle me in your hope-filled hands. Use me, destroy me, step on me! I too want to be involved in making the greatest hope in human history possible- which can only be done with your hands, not ones a worthless as  _mine_ -”

“Nagito, _stop_ …” Hajime’s eyes look up, full of hurt, and Nagito _does_ stop. What was that look? _Why was he giving that look?_ _Why was he hurting like that?_

“It’s fine, Hajime… you see, this is how it’s supposed to be! Please, use my selfless love for you all to propel you to further heights! Don't be afraid to hurt me. That is what I _want_ , more than anything!”

Nagito continued begging despite Hajime’s traumatized eyes.  

“If I could be the final death on this island,” he steps forward, throwing arms wide out in front of him- “wouldn't that be so perfect?”- leaning in, feeling the tickle of brown hair on his cheek. The other boy still doesn't move. He doesn’t back away. Nagito’s eyes sparkle in wonder.

“Isn’t that a selfless cause?”

There’s silence, and Nagito can feel it on his skin: the strange hope- the strength- that enveloped him when he was in the same air as this boy. Hajime was truly special, Nagito could feel it when he was around this boy. The feeling of raging affection he had for this boy. Unmistakable. Undeniable. Unquenchable.

_“No, it isn’t.”_

This threw Nagito back, and he backs away to watch as Hajime’s firm eyes met with his, unwavering.

_“It’s the most selfish thing I've ever heard.”_

Nagito is slightly offended, but all of a sudden Hajime is smiling calmly, as if he’d found the answer inside himself. He reaches out an open hand, and Nagito could only stare in response. A lifeline. An offering of his hope. The hope that burned inside of _him,_  something that shone too bright in him, something pure and untainted that drew everyone to him.

Did he know that Nagito wanted nothing more than to rip it out of him, and let it envelope him? This ultimate hope? And he was inviting him straight in?

Nagito’s hand was shaking, as he reached out as well-

“We’re getting off the island together- all of us.”

And then it dawned on him, Nagito’s green eyes flashed dark, he retracted his hand, laughing. “Don’t be silly, Hajime!”

“You can't say things like that when you don't know what will happen. There’s still lots of hope in your future, Hajime. I envy you.”

But the boy before Nagito didn't look scared for once. _What was he thinking, with his arm extended like that?_

“It’s really a shame- I really hope I’ll be there when your hope shines at its brightest, Hajime.”

 _An... open, extended hand... waiting for_ him _?_

“Your hope... must be tired today, Hajime. Wow, to think Mikan’s despair was that great? Watching you solve the case was truly, truly inspirational!”

Nagito walked over to the door, opening it, gaze still transfixed on the stubborn hand, longingly… but he could see the brave face connected to the hand starting to break. Nagito watched as Hajime stumbled a bit while backing away, before looking up again, full of resolve.

"Wait!" Hajime says, and suddenly remembers, scrambling into his pocket and-

_“Nagito-”_

“Good night, Hajime!” Nagito called out cheerfully as he shut the door. 

It was indecent, the way that hand drew him closer. It was sinful, the way the hand so easily beckoned at his heart. His heart hammered in excitement, palms sweaty and disgusting.

If he ever took that hope- if he ever felt such a strong hope in the palm of his sinful dirty hands- he was sure he would never have been able to let go.

And then Nagito was leaning against the closed door, laughing at himself in disbelief, gaze locked onto the ceiling, trying to steady his trembling arms. He stayed like that for minutes, just listening to the stillness of the room as it accompanied him, the feeling Hajime’s stern gaze still on his skin, his hopeful aura still suffocating him.

And then he heard a single step.

Nagito’s breath seized.

A hesitant breath at the other side of the door-

\- a whispered “dammit”-

\- an exhausted sigh-

\- and a steady, pattern of footsteps disappearing into the distance.

Nagito looked down at his own pathetic hands, curling in on himself.

_Hajime Hinata was truly a seductively wonderful person._

 

...

 

Only those who are willing to crawl into the darkest despair in the pursuit of hope… _only they deserve to be called true hope._

But I’m disappointed. Sorely disappointed that none of you would do something so simple, even when starving and wasting away.

In a world where only talent dictates your worth from the very beginning, we are given inescapable truths which restrict any type of potential we have. Some of us are lucky, and we’re blessed with higher standing from the beginning. Some of us are unlucky, and we’re born as the scum at the bottom of a pond. Just like with everything else, _I’m both_ , Hajime!

But you… you are different.

You’re even worse.

You don't even deserve to be around the Ultimates.

Why do you hold your head up high? Where do you think your self-worth comes from?

What is that expression? That look of shattered hope?

Don’t look at me like that. You don't even deserve to be used as a stepladder for hope.

_You’re nothing._

 

...

 

How selfish is it- Hajime- for someone like me to want someone’s love?

Is it unthinkable? Is it undeserving?

Do you see the way they look at you? The way Soda comes to you about his woes? The way Fuyuhiko opens up around you? The way Sonia looks to you for comfort? The way Chiaki blushes around you, as she puts her hand on yours, to calm you down? Do you truly think you deserve, Hajime, to have an Ultimate comfort you?

…

Do you see the way I look at you?

It’s disgusting, isn’t it? How shameful! How disgraceful! _You- a reserve course student-_ I hope you know you don't deserve it. It’s just like me… to have been so unfortunate, to meet someone like you. To be so weak as to ever have been mislead by you.

Why is it _\- Hajime-_ that someone like you can capture everyone the way you do? What would it take for something like me to do the same?

A spectacle of brilliance! Only in a spectacle of brilliance could I possibly achieve the hope that you’ve somehow managed to siphon off the rest of the Ultimates. Feeding off them like some parasite...

How do you dare to stand around people like them? How can they give their hope to you?

That must be where the hope within you comes from. You take it from others.

_You’re so selfish, Hajime._

You’re worse than nothing, and you still make me care about you?

 

...

 

Nagito stood in the light of the castle window, looking up at the decorated wall in awe at the spears that adorned them, mind running through possibility after possibility.

Hope and wonderment all coursed through him as everything clicked together: his surefire pathway to becoming the biggest hope. There was a bittersweet ache in his chest that he ignored. What would there be to miss?

 He turned around to see Hajime, standing to the background of light from the doorway to the castle. Nagito scoffed, the boy who was so brave to him just a few days ago just looked reckless in his stubborn determination to survive. He’d done well considering he was just a reserve course student.

 “What are you doing here?”

 “I want to talk with you.”

 “I’m busy, Hajime. Don’t you think you should be off doing something else?”

 This seemed to shake the plain boy, who looked down for a bit, before returning with an even more fiery gaze.

 “No- whatever you’re up to, it's probably not good and I know I shouldn't leave you alone.”

 The boy stepped forward, hand gesturing outwards, as if reaching. But this time it didn't stay out. Predictable. Just like a reserve course student to feel like he had all the time in the world. Nagito didn't have time to entertain him…

 But then again...

“You’re worrying about a loser like me?”

Hajime bit back. “Why? Am I not allowed?” There’s anger there, frustration.

“I suppose… even _you_ have rights.”

Hajime looked away, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I… want to talk. I don't understand you yet. But… I don’t want to let this be what it’s like between us forever?”

Nagito felt the silence, he felt annoyed at the way Hajime looked in the silhouette of the light- beautiful, like a vessel for hope. He remembered the outreached hand, the way his heart beat fast, the magnetism, wanting to reach out and absorb it… to claim it… the ultimate hope.

And here again. Even as the light by the window shone, illuminating his one last chance at becoming true hope, he felt it. The way Hajime Hinata, the boy without even the slightest bit of hope in his unfortunate worthless being, drew him... yet, why did his body still ache to reach out to someone so underwhelming? Why did he want to follow him? More than anything in the world? Why did he anchor him here?

Why did he make it so much harder for him to chase after his own hope?

He looked to the window, and the glint of the spear in the holy light. He shouldn't let anyone- _especially someone that Nagito knew couldn’t possibly hold the hope he sought-_ lead him away from what he aspired to be.

“Hajime… I appreciate it, really. I’m flattered you would want to talk with someone like me… but I'll be fine,” and Nagito gives a soft, wistful smile. “Go enjoy your time with everyone else. Someone like you shouldn't waste your time on little old me.”

As he walked past the spiky haired boy, who just looked at the ground in defeat, it was a hard thing for him to do to admit that Hajime really wasn't that bad.

It was hard for him to admit that _he really liked Hajime_ , and he hated that.

And if he let his heart decide, if he’d stayed for a moment longer, it would probably have been difficult to leave everything behind- _to leave Hajime behind-_ in pursuit of the hope he wanted so desperately to become-

_\- that he needed to become -_

\- and that Hajime was the only thing standing between him and his eternal hope. 

Whether Hajime had talent or not, he had a mysterious quality that made everyone feel comfortable around him _\- that drew them to him-_ and Nagito was no exception to this rule. In fact, Nagito had a feeling that more than anyone else...

… he wanted to _love_ Hajime Hinata.

And that was a dangerous thing. 

 

...

 

It came as a knock on the door, and Nagito’s skin jumped. _Really? When he was so close to being done?_

He released an exasperated sigh, wondering if he should even open the door. There's another knock, and the excitement and curiosity of being visited got the better of him. He tucked the knife away on the highest shelf, and if he was lucky, Hajime wouldn't notice.

He paused, furrowing white eyebrows. _Why did he think it was Hajime?_

_Of course it'd be Hajime._

Who else would it be?

A small, familiar, annoying feeling flitted across his chest which he ignored as he opened the door; the sorry boy stood on the steps, eyes cast away as if they hadn’t come with the intent to see him. Nagito couldn't help the small smile that crept up on his face.

“Hajime…! Man, I would have been so excited to see you if it were still a few days ago!”

The other boy made a wincing expression as if he were just pinched.

“I guess the old me would have been really lucky to see you, huh? It still makes me happy someone would come to see me, though! Even if it’s just you.”

An offended look passed by Hajime’s face, but he held whatever retort he had in his throat. “I- whatever. I don’t know why you’re like this to me, can you just stop it?”

“You’re the one coming to me, Hajime. Are you really that lonely and desperate?”

The other boy snapped. “ _Just stop!_ Do you really want me to leave so badly? Do you hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you, Hajime.”

There's a silence, before Hajime's face contorts into a painful look.

"Then... why? Why do you always try to get under my skin?" 

 _You’re making things too difficult._ How pathetic that a reserve course student could make things so difficult. 

“Well- fine. Don’t tell me. But I’m not leaving-” the brown-haired boy pauses, and thinks, before his shoulders slump. “I feel like you’re about to do something stupid. Just… whatever you’re about to do, don't do it.”

Nagito’s line of sight went down to the boy’s clenched fist- there was something inside it. Hajime seemed to notice, because he caught Nagito’s eyes and diverted his gaze. Letting out a sigh, the boy shook his head and put his hand on the door so Nagito wouldn’t close it.

“Let me come in, alright? Just for one night. I just want to talk. I want to understand.”

Nagito looked from Hajime to his room before relenting. It was a bad idea, but considering Nagito was already committed to hope and there wasn't much time left anyway, he’d let him in. 

There was a part of him that wanted to enjoy the time he had left. There was a part of him that knew even if the boy was… underwhelming in terms of accomplishments, he had a way of making Nagito feel different than with everyone else. Moving over to the shelf, he pushed the knife there further back into the shelf to make sure it would be away from sight.

“Is that a laptop? Were you recording something?”

His heart stopped.

“That’s not for reserve course students like you to know.” Nagito said haughtily, skipping over, closing the laptop and sliding it into a drawer. The other boy’s eyes narrowed a bit, but decided not to push it, confident that at least he was here to watch the boy for the night.

It was quiet that night (other than for the brief minutes that Monokuma interrupted to screech about indecency, and the other five that Monomi came to tell them to “stay safe”). Hajime actually didn't seem like he was in a talking mood, and Nagito wondered why he came at all.

Was it because he knew? Could he tell? Why in all the talented people on this island was it the reserve student who always seemed to reach the answer first?

When the lights were off, the two boys had managed to squeeze into the bed, and stared at the ceiling in silence. Outside the cabin, they could hear the distant waves rolling them into slumber, and the occasional buzzing of a mosquito when it flew by. The moon bathed the room in blue.

Side by side, skin against skin in the single person bed, Nagito wanted to ask Hajime a lot of things. About how he lived with himself. About what he thought about the killing game. About what he felt about the Ultimates. About what he felt true hope was. But regardless, Nagito knew he wasn't the one who could reach the answers he needed anyway. There were limitations to the hope boring people could achieve. But whereas a week ago Nagito wouldn’t have been able to contain himself at the thought of being next to Hajime, and a few days ago Nagito wouldn’t even have been able to look him in the eye, today he felt… calm. Perhaps because tomorrow, he’d start preparations to…

Ah.

Well, at least for once in his life he wasn't… actually alone. The fact that Hajime was directly beside him meant he was, by definition, not alone tonight. He pondered for a bit, considering everything he did and said to the boy, about how the other was able to stop from being physically disgusted in his presence. He wondered if the other boy _was_ disgusted and just really good at hiding it.

How was he brave enough to be so close? Fear suddenly clutched at his heart as it dawned on him, he turned to face the other boy and-

“Why are you so tense?”

Nagito could make out the flush on Hajime’s skin even in the dark.

“Just calm down. It’s okay… and don’t think about what Monokuma said, it’s… _not like that_.”

Nagito can feel his own cold face warm up as the boy starts fidgeting beside him. Then, Nagito feels a small ring pressed into his palm.

“Here.”

And then they spoke. And spoke. Hushed passionate voices as if not to wake anyone else on the island up. Question after question, story after story, and as Nagito ran his fingers over the Hope’s Peak emblem he wondered if kindness and friendship was a talent, and if this was what it was like to not be alone. He wondered if kindness, friendship and love was hope, but he stopped himself just in time because…

It would make things too hard.

But if this was what people felt like for their whole lives, they would have been too lucky, and his talent really was worth nothing. Because any luck Nagito would ever cross wouldn’t even amount to the luck people had just by lying in a cramped single bed, sharing hushed voices.

The night was too short, and before long, Nagito could hear snoring. A groan, a twist, an arm looped around his own.... and at this rate, Nagito wouldn't have been surprised if they awoke to a corpse in the room. But Nagito couldn't find it in him to move away. 

 

...

 

Hajime sat in front of the monitor in the moonlight, before hitting play again, as if it were a rewind button. His eyes were tired, red, sore. He wiped an arm over them to unblur his vision, as again, the picture of the dishevelled white-haired boy appeared on the screen, an explanation of a disgusting plan he’d heard over a hundred times by now. His teeth clenched hard, and he buried his head in his arms. His chest hurt. _It hurt._

Bleary eyes looked at the hair clip in his palm, and he choked as he watched the video of the boy he’d seen over a hundred times in the last day, the voice of the boy who was responsible for taking away his two closest people in one day.

_Please call me... the Ultimate Hope._

“You’re so fucking selfish, _Nagito Komaeda._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .
> 
> I've recently fallen back in love with SDR2 and honestly... I love them. I love these two. And Nagito's feelings. Ugh... They're so strong. They're so damn strong. 
> 
> Please feel free to comment or critique! I'd love to improve x 
> 
> ~
> 
> I know in some places my writing can be cluttered and convoluted! So here are a few notes:
> 
> * Hajime is confused, disturbed and upset when Nagito rants about wanting to be murdered for the sake of hope. He offers up his hand as a gesture of wanting to understand and accept Nagito regardless, but also as a type of promise to get them all out of there alive- this is a very optimistic and hopeful situation, one that seems too good to be true. Although Nagito is dazed by the offer, and yearns to touch the person who _at this point he believes embodies hope (as his feelings are strongest when he's with Hajime, and he only ever feels so strongly about hope, he sees Hajime = Hope)_ , he rejects the handshake because he knows if he touches that hope he _would not be willing to let go_. This means sacrificing his own ideals and his existing version of hope, for Hajime.  
>  ** Due to this, although he would usually long for more time with the Ultimates he loves so much, he knows he needs to distance himself before he gets so attached that he loses sight of his own ideals.  
> *** There is a transition between Nagito's attitudes towards Hajime in the 4th Case to the 5th Case. Whereas the feeling of being mislead was strong in the 4th Case as he'd just learned that the person he had the strongest feelings for had /nothing/ to do with hope, you see him slowly realising (and resenting) the fact that despite his lack of an Ultimate, Nagito still cares about Hajime (favourite moment in the game, tbh). In the 5th Case, already content and determined to go ahead with his plan to become the Ultimate Hope, he comes to terms with this because _he still enjoys spending time with Hajime_ even if he doesn't like that he can be fond of someone like him.  
>  My tumblr is @notcoolhajime if you want to find me for any reason! I basically only cry about these two... Thank you for reading!


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